The Perfect Matron

by Dave Hicks

 

Chapter 7

 

1

 

Next morning when I awoke, Katherine wasn’t with me. My first reaction was to fear the worse - until I faintly heard Katherine and Bennita happily chatting, in some other part of the house. I put on a dressing gown and joined them on the rear verandah overlooking the lake, having coffee. Katherine seemed in a better state of mind than I’d expected. It was though her confession to Bennita last night, had finally allowed her to come to terms, with what had happened to her.

I kissed her. There was a pot of coffee on the table. I poured myself a cup and sat down with them.

"It’s a very lovely place you have, David," Bennita remarked, looking towards the lake. "You must be very proud of it. It’s so peaceful."

I sensed she was still searching for answers.

"Yes," I replied. "My parents left it to me, when they died. Believe it or not, I came here for peace and quiet. I never expected to have a bloody hospital sitting on top of it. Or be the Matron of it - for that matter. Or end up looking the way I do now - that’s for sure."

Bennita smiled.

"You own all the slaves here too, don’t you, David?" she asked, but it was more of a statement.

"Yes," I admitted, with a quick nod of my head. "I see little purpose in lying to you."

"That’s what I thought," Bennita smiled. "Someone has to own them all and it’s very unusual for Karalan women to own slaves."

"So I understand," I remarked.

"Do you own Katherine too?" Bennita asked.

I glanced towards Katherine. She nodded and smiled, letting me know it was okay to tell Bennita the truth.

"Yes," I admitted. "Katherine is my slave."

Bennita let out a sigh of relief and seemed to almost slump into her chair.

"Thank The Holy Creator for that," she sighed, sitting back in her chair in relief.

"But, I don’t agree with slavery," I added. "I want you to know that, before we go any further."

"No," she said, a little thoughtfully. "I don’t suppose you would. I don’t agree with it either."

"If there was something I could do about it - I would," I added firmly.

"Maybe there is something you can do about it," she smiled.

"Such as?" I asked.

"I rather not discuss that right now," Bennita replied. "Perhaps we could explore it more, sometime in future?"

I nodded.

 

2

 

Bennita prepared to leave and return to the city. She and Katherine stood by Bennita’s car, while I put her bags in the trunk.

"I came here to buy Katherine," she admitted to me, as I’d rejoined them. "I confess, that was the main purpose of my visit. I wanted to rescue my sister’s child - from whoever owned her. I was prepared to pay any price. Everything I own - if necessary."

"Do you still want to buy Katherine from me?" I asked.

"No," Bennita smiled. "Not at all. Of course not. I’m absolutely convinced Katherine would never want to leave you, anyway. I believe she’s very fortunate to have you. If it wasn’t for you, she’d wouldn’t be alive today."

"So what happens now, Bennita?" Katherine asked her. "Now you know the truth?"

"I’ll do all I can," Bennita answered firmly, "to make sure no one else ever finds out about you both. I’ll do anything I can to protect Katherine. I promise you that. As head of the Karalan church, I do have some influence."

Bennita gazed across from the house to the hospital.

"You’re both doing such marvelous work here," she smiled. "In fact, you do more good in a single day, than that bloody Synod of mine achieves in a year. Nothing must ever be allowed to stop this work - not for any reason."

The two women hugged.

"You’ll come again, won’t you?" Katherine asked, as Bennita entered her car.

"You just try to keep me away," Bennita laughed. "I’ll phone you in the next few days, to let you know what’s happening. And I’ll keep you updated about those other things we talked about."

I wondered what she’d mean by that last statement.

"Thank you," Katherine smiled, through the open window.

"Take care, Katherine," she smiled in return. "Remember - each in our own way, we all do the work of the Holy Creator."

She engaged the car’s transmission and began her journey back to the city.

 

3

 

I started teaching Grace and Paula martial arts. Grace took to it with the enthusiasm of a greased rat in a sewer pipe - pushed along by compressed air. She attacked it with her usual ‘boot and all’ attitude, that applies to just about everything she does. Ellen, our doctor, noticed our training sessions by the lake and asked to join us. She’d practiced martial arts in the past - before she’d become a slave and felt she had something valuable to offer the group. Lisa, one of my nurses, also joined us. Like Ellen, she wasn’t an abused slave and therefore not part of the inner circle, as were Grace and Paula. I wasn’t prepared to tell the un-abused slaves the true purpose of our training. Grace might have a big mouth at times, but I knew I could rely on her to keep our real intentions secret.

I sparred gently with Ellen for a while - to get some idea of how good she was. She was quite good, as it happened. We fought for about fifteen minutes, until she was forced to call a halt.

"I can’t possibly beat you," she admitted, breathing heavily. "I can’t even keep up with you. You’re unbelievable. You’re just so amazingly fast. You know all the right moves against me - even before I make them."

"Our Matron was only in first gear, Ellen," grinned Grace. "And she was being really nice to you. I’ve seen something of what our stunningly beautiful Matron can do. When she wants to - that is."

"Would you show me?" Ellen asked.

I shrugged then nodded to her. I walked over to a tall, dead tree nearby, about six inches in diameter. With a single, sharp kick, I tore a large chunk out of it. It crashed to the ground, almost in slow motion.

"Don’t tell any of our gardeners," I smiled, as I returned to the group. "They’ll expect me to put it back up again. How do you glue a tree that size back together, I wonder? Thank heavens I own it."

"Holy shit!" cried Ellen, in amazement. "No one can possibly do that. Not with just a single kick. You should’ve broken every bone in your leg."

"You should see what she can do to people’s hands in elevators," laughed Grace brightly. "Crunch, grind and scream. She’s great."

"What?" asked Ellen, turning to her.

"Nothing," grinned Grace, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You’ll find out."

Ellen looked at me.

"Seriously," Ellen said. "I’ve fought in national tournaments. I used to think I wasn’t too bad - up to now, that is. You’re something else entirely. While we sparring, I quickly realized, you were just toying with me. I was getting tired - while you weren’t even raising a sweat. It’s incredible. Where did you learn to fight like that? How can your body do those things, without suffering serious damage."

"I’ve spent a lot of time in space," I answered, with a mischievous grin. "That might have something to do with it. Space food is highly nutritious - boring but nutritious."

"Sure," Ellen said, doubtfully. "That’s the reason. Space food. Why is it I get the impression you don’t want to answer my question?"

"Maybe someday I will," I replied.

 

4

 

Now came the problem of dealing with our cook Ingrid’s alcoholism. She’d regained consciousness the day before and was starting to look healthy again. Katherine had decided to give her two days of enforced sleep - to allow her body to recover from the abuse it had received.. I sat by her bed and talked to her. She didn’t seem too happy about having to discuss her problem with me.

"First of all, Ingrid," I smiled gently. "No one here thinks any less of you for what’s happened. Definitely not me. I want you to understand that - before we go any further."

"Thank you, Matron," she said, with some embarrassment. "I’m very sorry it happened. I tried so hard not to let I happen."

"What did happen?" I asked.

"I got so sad," she replied. "In the end I just needed to get drunk. Beth did try to cheer me up but it wasn’t any help. She’s everyone’s mother and she’s lovely."

I nodded and gave her time to expand on what she’d said.

"I hate cooking," she admitted. "Not like Beth does. She loves to do it. But Tracy loves to cook and has to do cleaning - which she doesn’t like doing either. We started off having a few drinks together. But my drinking got out of control. I wouldn’t mind doing cleaning. I get on well with the other domestics, Yvonne and Nancy. Please don’t get me wrong Matron - I love Beth, she’s wonderful. It’s just the kitchen I hate."

I thought for a moment.

"Do you think Tracy would swap jobs with you?" I asked.

"I think so," she replied unsurely.

"Have you asked her?"

"No," she admitted. "I thought we all had to do whatever jobs Katherine told us to do."

Using my mobile phone I called our Housekeeper, Yvonne.

"Yes, Matron," she answered brightly. "What can I do for you?"

"I think you can help me solve a problem," I told her. "It’s to do with Ingrid and Tracy."

"Fire away," she said.

"Could they swap jobs? Provided you, Beth and Tracy are agreeable, of course. I think they’d both be a lot happier."

"I don’t have a problem with that at all," she replied. "Ingrid’s a good worker. I’ll be glad to have her. How soon?"

"Today okay?" I laughed. "Yesterday would be even better."

"Fine," replied. "Do you want me to ask Tracy how she feels about it?"

"If you would, Yvonne," I answered, "I’d appreciate it. Please phone me as soon as you know, so I can let Ingrid know. And let Beth know too?"

"Sure," she replied. "Not a problem, Matron."

Next I called our chef, Beth and repeated what I’d said to Yvonne. She was happy with the proposed arrangement.

"We’ll wait now and see what happens now," I smiled to Ingrid.

"Thank you so much, Matron," she smiled. "I wasn’t brave enough to say anything to Katherine about it."

I looked at her. She was still quite young and pretty, at twenty-five. I wondered briefly what she might have done to become a slave.

"What did you do for your previous owner?" I asked her.

"Cook," she replied, with a sigh. "I hated every minute of it. I worked in a food processing factory. It’s such soul destroying work. Just the same thing, over and over again. In the end, I made so many mistakes, my owner decided to get rid of me."

"Will you be okay, just doing cleaning?" I asked. "It can be pretty boring work."

"But I get to talk to everyone," Ingrid said, with a smile. "And I can move about. I won’t just be stuck in a kitchen - with piles of food."

My phone rang. It was Yvonne returning my call. She’d talked to Tracy and Beth. Everything was arranged. I told Ingrid the good news.

"That’s great," she grinned.

"I guess you’re going to have to change your pink uniform for a light blue one now," I smiled.

"When can I start?" she asked me

"As soon as Katherine decides to kick you out of that bed," I smiled.

I phoned Katherine and let her know what I’d arranged for Ingrid.

"What a clever Matron you are," she laughed.

"So when can Ingrid leave the hospital?" I asked her.

"Hasn’t she gone already?" Katherine answered jokingly, breaking the connection.

I smiled at Ingrid.

"Pack your bags, Ingrid," I smiled. "You’ve been let out."

"Thanks again, Matron," she said, standing quickly and wriggling out of her nightgown. "I really appreciate this. I truly do."

"Not a problem," I smiled.

"Katherine’s not going to punish me, is she?"

"What for?" I laughed. "You haven’t done anything wrong."

She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Maybe I do have the makings of a therapist, after all. Again, I curious to see how easily they seem to forget I’m their owner.

 

5

 

The first two of the specially made corsets, Katherine had ordered, arrived. The weight of her massive breasts was causing her discomfort during the day. The corsets would provide her with much more support and load distribution. A fair amount of the weight of her breasts would now rest on her hips, instead of her shoulders and back - as with a normal bra. The stiff, shapely cups of the corset made her outstanding bosom, even more… outstanding. I found just looking at it exiting.

She’d selected the silky, dark blue corset to wear on the first morning. After she put her arms through the shoulder straps, I fastened the vertical row of clips at the front, that ran from the cleavage of her breasts to just above her pubic region.

I thought she looked very attractive and I told her so. I realized, I still felt guilty for having her breasts enlarged when I’d bought her. My relationship with her - and just about everything else in my life - had changed so much since then. I didn’t mention my feelings of regret to her again. We’d been through all that before and we both now accepted, there was nothing we could ever do to change the situation. I think what made me feel worse about it was; even though I was now a woman, I still found her enormous breasts so exciting.

"What will it be like, having to wear one of these things each day?" I asked her, as I moved behind and started tightening the laces.

"A define improvement," smiled at me, in the mirror before us. "I couldn’t go on much longer, the way things were."

"Don’t you feel stiff?" I asked. "It’s got so many stays in it."

"Very much so," she laughed. "I feel like I’m in a truss or something. Thank heavens I’m not planning on doing any pick and shovel work, this morning."

Once I’d finished tightening and tying up the laces, she turned towards me.

"How do I look?" she asked expectantly.

"Fantastic," I grinned, looking her up and down. "Very sexy. It does wonders for you figure."

"And what was wrong with my figure before?" she asked, pretending to be insulted by my statement.

I know a ‘no win’ question when I hear one.

"Nothing," I replied, casually. "You’ve got a gorgeous figure. I’ve always said so. Haven’t I?"

"That’s all right then," she said, seemingly satisfied with my answer.

I ran my hands over her. The corset felt quite rigid.

"It really does feel very sexy," I told her again. "And you look very sexy. I’m getting rather excited."

She laughed.

"Well," she smiled, "maybe we should get some corsets for you too."

"No way!"

She looked at me steadily - saying nothing.

"You’re not serious, are you?" I asked.

"Oh yes I am," she replied firmly.

"With a figure like mine," I told her, "I definitely don’t need one."

"I don’t want you in one, because you need it," she explained. "I want you in one because I’d find corsets sexy too."

"Oh," I replied.

"Mm," she laughed.

 

6

 

 

With the arrival of a large hall by heavy-lift airship, the hospital and its associated buildings was finally complete. Apart from the hospital building itself - containing the wards, operating theater and emergency section - there was a visitors home, a kitchen and restaurant building, an administration block, a large power generation and waste treatment plant, a laundry, workshop and storage facilities.

Katherine and I continued to live in the original house, while the slaves occupied the four spacious and comfortable houses further along the lake’s shore. The place was functioned as small but relatively self-contained community.

Katherine and I sat in the restaurant drinking coffee.

"How do you feel about the hospital being used to make sinful Karalan men more feminine?" Katherine asked me.

"Why?" I asked.

"I’ve received a request from the Synod," she informed me. "I needed to check with you first. The want a reply, as soon as possible."

"Tell them to go to hell with them," I answered. "I imagine most of them will end up there anyway - eventually."

"I’m serious, David," she said.

I nodded and waited for her to continue.

"Apparently, a Karalan husband has been caught having an affair with another woman," she related. "More importantly, the woman didn’t belong to our church."

"Is that any worse than being unfaithful with someone inside the church?"

"Oh yes, my love," she smiled, shaking her head. "Definitely. Being unfaithful is bad enough, but to waste good sperm on someone who isn’t even a member of the Karalan church, that’s a hanging offense. Full feminization is called for - in cases like these."

"I don’t much like the idea," I told her. "It’s not really why the hospital is here - is it?"

"True," she replied slowly. "But it does place the Synod in our debt - to some degree. After they met you, they seem to have the ridiculous impression, we’re very good at this feminization sort of thing."

"I’m still not happy with the idea. How do we stand legally - doing something like that to someone, against their will?"

"It’s never been a problem, in the past," Katherine told me.

"Even if they don’t want it done to them?"

"Even if they don’t want it done to them," she confirmed.

"Why is that?"

"We’re members of a religious organization," she explained. "Situations like this are covered under special legislation. It’s up to the church to decided how to punish their members for transgressions. The church’s laws take precedence over certain common laws."

"That sounds very convenient," I remarked.

"Isn’t it," she nodded, with a grin.

"And we can do what ever they like to him," I observed.

"Within limits," she replied. "We’re not allowed to kill him - well not directly, anyway."

I wasn’t convinced her suggestion was what I wanted for the hospital. However, I started to realize the situation did have some very interesting possibilities.

She let me think for a while.

"I had a quick talk to Bennita about it," Katherine informed me.

"And?"

"She’s very much in favor of the idea. She thinks it would help with what she’s trying to achieve within the church."

"I’m still not convinced, I afraid," I answered, shaking my head.

"The man they want to feminize, is some shit-head from our local church," she mentioned, with forced casualness. "You know - the one you don’t like. The one who tried to get you into bed with him."

"How soon can they have him here?" I asked her, changing my mind completely.

"You agree then?" a little surprised, by my rapid reversal.

"Sure," I laughed. "And… it might be good practice for us. I have an idea I’m working on at the moment. It involves what we might do to one or two slave dealers and agents - when we capture them."

"Mm," smiled Katherine thoughtfully. "That idea sounds very interesting, my dear David. We could be rather creative with what we do to those slaver people - couldn’t we?"

"And the more creative the better - I would imagine," I answered, returning her smile. "It brings up all sorts of interesting images in my mind, it does."

"Yes," she grinned. "And we do so badly need the practice, don’t we?"

"Absolutely," I agreed. "We wouldn’t want to get it wrong, would we?

"Of course not," she nodded. "That simply wouldn’t be professional - would it?"

"I agree."

"Is there anything in particular, you had in mind for the dealers?" she asked, pretending a degree of indifference. "Something rather nasty, perhaps? I vaguely remember Solomon saying something about; an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth."

"I’ve always felt the punishment should fit the crime," I said. "It was something my mother use to remind me of - at various times during my childhood. She had a strong belief in natural justice. What do you think about my feelings on the subject?"

"Oh yes," she smiled. "I do so like the concept. There’s nothing more satisfying that natural justice, is there?"

I nodded.

"Then, I suppose you might as well go ahead now tell the Synod; we’ll accept their offer," I grinned to Katherine. "Subject to certain conditions of course - which I’m sure we’ll think of - as we go along."

"I already have," she grinned at me. "Andrew will be here in a fortnight - to begin his treatment. We can put him in the slave’s ward, with Casey and Olivia - away from our normal patients. He’ll get quite a surprise, being in the same ward as a horrific burns victim and an anorexic. But first, he has to appear before the Synod - to get a fair trial, of course."

I looked at her and laughed.

"You bloody woman," I complained. "You knew I’d end up agreeing with you, all along. Didn’t you?"

"Yes, dear," she laughed.

"Then why did you bother to ask me in the first place?"

"Oh, David," she smiled demurely. "I’d never want to do anything my good husband woudln’t approve of - now would I?"

"Mm," I grumbled. "You’re still a bloody woman."

"Yes, dear," she chuckled. "You’re a woman too, don’t forget."

"I don’t wish to be reminded."

 

7

 

The next few weeks went by, in relative peace. Both Ingrid and Tracy appeared to be happy in their new jobs. Ingrid drinking problem no longer seemed to be a problem - for the time being, as least. However, I would keep a discrete but watchful eye on her - just in case she should be tempted to return to the bottle.

We started to receive more requests for Karalan women and children to be treated at our hospital. More applications now came from other parts of the country, not just our local area. Due to the growing number of applicants for medical treatment, we were forced to become more selective in those we chose to accept.

The martial arts training group had grown to seven in number. It now consisted of Grace and Paula, the re-grown sexual amputees, and Ellen the doctor and Lisa, one of my nurses. Also Angela our engineer. Yvonne the housekeeper - with the thousands of now inoperative lights under her skin - had also taken an interest. The group was now the size I wanted it to be. I was pleased that four of the members were slaves who’d been badly abused in the past. That would give them so much more commitment to the cause. For what I had in mind, I wanted women who had absolutely no sympathy for slave dealers and their kind.

Grace showed a particular flare for using zeng knives. They’re power driven, rapidly rotating pair of very sharp, ceramic blades that strap to the wrists of the operator. Used properly, they can have a devastating effect on an enemy - swiftly carving long strips of flesh and chunks of bone from the opponent’s body, at lightning speed. Yvonne’s skills as an engineer would be useful, with the more technical aspects of any mission. Ellen our doctor, was already a skilled martial artist when I bought her and was quickly becoming very helpful in assisting me in training the others. Lisa, my nurse, was very proficient with a poison dart gun and blow tube. All very useful skills.

Although it was early days, as far as my group were concerned, things were slowly coming together. They were beginning to become the dedicated, skilled and closely bonded unit I needed.

My investigative efforts with the computer were starting to pay dividends. I’d discovered the individual who experimented on Beth, our chef and made her breasts so large. I now knew the identity of the brothel owner who’d ordered Grace’s and Paula’s limbs to be removed. I already had the name of the person who put the lights under Yvonne’s skin when I bought the codes to disable them.

Now what I needed to do, was to build an ever increasingly more accurate profile of these people and others - so I could plan and execute their kidnap and eventual punishment. This was were Grace’s talent with the computer was invaluable. Once I’d let her know what I was doing, she started burrowing into the system with amazing speed and skill.

I couldn’t help thinking; what was Bennita planning on doing? She hadn’t discussed anything with me but may have talked to Katherine. I decided not to ask Katherine about it directly - preferring to let her tell me in her own time. Again I was reminded, how Karalan women are more slippery than a soaped up baby in a plastic bathtub.

 

8

 

"I can’t breathe, Katherine," I told Katherine, who stood directly behind me.

"You’re not supposed to be able to breathe, David," she laughed, continuing to pull the laces of my corset ever tighter. "It’s a corset - remember?."

"I can’t move, either," I complained.

"Stop being such a big baby," she admonished me. "It’s going to make your already incredibly, fantastic figure, even more stunning."

"Why do I have to wear one?" I asked.

"Because I want you to," she answered. "It’s not as though I’m asking you to wear it all the time - like I have to."

"But it’s uncomfortable. And three - no make that four - of my ribs have fractured. I distinctly heard them go pop. I didn’t imagine it - they really did, you know."

"Then you’ll have to get used to it, won’t you," she replied unsympathetically. "The same way you got used to wearing bras. Isn’t it good we live so close to a hospital."

"Bras don’t break ribs!" I countered.

"Stop holding your breath," Katherine instructed. "You’re just making it harder on yourself."

"I don’t need to wear a corset," I said. "I already have a truly marvelous shape. You just said so. I remember you saying that, before all the bloody stopped flowing to my head."

"What’s that got to do with it?" she asked, tying the laces at the back of me. "You’re a woman now. That doesn’t necessarily mean, you don’t need to wear something, just because you don’t need to wear something."

"What you just said, isn’t even logical," I continued to complain. "It doesn’t make any sense."

"It doesn’t have to," she said firmly, pulling yet again on the laces. "Just behave yourself and do as you’re told."

"It’s not fair," I moaned.

"Be quiet," she laughed, running her hands over my imprisoned torso. "You look absolutely gorgeous. Very sexy."

"I don’t feel the least bit sexy," I told her. "I feel like I can’t move."

"Not another word out of you, David," she warned. "Do you think I look sexy in a corset?"

"Yes," I admitted, after a moment's thought.

"And are you glad I have to wear them?" she asked.

"Ugh. Yes."

"Since you find me sexy, don’t you think, it’s only fair; you should wear something I find sexy too? Just once in a while?"

"I suppose so," I conceded.

"Good," she grin. "Then it’s not a problem, is it?"

She pulled again on the laces.

"Ugh," I exclaimed.

"That’s my girl," she laughed, slapping me hard on my imprisoned rear end.

 

9

 

Zelda and her husband Andrew arrived at the hospital, late one afternoon, directly from his trial before the Synod. I didn’t expect Andrew to be drugged, unconscious, bound and gagged. The church certainly wasn’t taking any chances with him escaping his fate.

While Andrew was being settled into the slave’s ward, Zelda, Katherine and I met in Katherine’s office.

"I want you to start on him immediately," Zelda stated.

"That really depends on what you want done to him," Katherine replied patiently. "I thought Matron and I might discuss it with you first - before we start."

"I want him punished really badly," stated Zelda. "After what he’s put me through all these years, I’d rather have him sold for body parts. That’s if I thought for one moment, I could get away with it."

"The order from the Synod, directs me to make him very feminine," Katherine said, referring to a sheet of paper before her, on the desk.

"I don’t care what the order says," responded angrily. "I want him to pay dearly for what he’s done to me."

"We can only do as the Synod directs us to do," Katherine informed her. "That’s the law. However, the order does give us a fair amount of discretion."

"Well," answered Zelda, pointing at me. "I certainly don’t want him ending up looking like her. That’s the last thing I want."

Katherine laughed.

"I don’t think there’s much chance of that," she smiled. "Our Matron is one of a kind. She’s absolutely unique. I can assure you, Andrew certainly won’t end up looking like Matron"

"That’s all right then," said Zelda, relaxing a little in her chair. "If I thought for one moment, you were going to make him look like her, I’d find some way of swapping places with him. Who ever heard of a Matron of a hospital looking like that, anyway? It’s ridiculous. She looks like something out of some silly hospital movie."

We both chose to ignore her statement.

"Did you have anything particular in mind, you’d like done to him?" Katherine asked, trying to divert the conversation from me.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Zelda replied, with a sly grin spreading across her face.

"Yes?" Katherine inquired.

"Can you make him completely obedient?"

"We could," Katherine replied. "There are implant devices that will control his behavior. The use of such devices is strictly controlled by the government, so they are not a viable option. But - there’s also drugs available that can create the same effect. We could use the surgical procedure, that’s normally used on slaves. Those results are permanent, however and can have some undesirable side effects, in some cases."

"That’s what I want," Zelda stated, without a moment's hesitation. "But I don’t want him looking the least bit pretty. I want him fat and ugly. And old too."

Katherine jotted a few words on the paper in front of her.

"Now let’s see if I have this correct," Katherine related. "You want Andrew to become an obedient, overweight, elderly, rather plain looking woman. Am I correct?"

"Yes," Zelda replied, and evil smile on her face. "That’s how I want him to be. I don’t want him to be attractive, to either sex - specially other women. I want him very plain looking. Just like you are - except for those ridiculous breasts of yours, of course. He can’t have anything like that. I don’t want him with big breasts. I want him to look just as ugly as you. That will do fine."

What a bitch, I thought. I could see Zelda’s statement about Katherine’s looks had hurt Katherine deeply.

"I don’t think your comment to the Director was called for," I said sternly to Zelda. "You should apologize immediately."

Zelda ignored me.

"It’s okay, Matron," Katherine smiled to me curtly, then rose quickly from her chair and walked over to the door.

She turned to Zelda.

"We’ll let you know when the treatment is complete, Zelda," Katherine informed her coolly.

Our interview with Zelda was definitely over.

"Are you okay," I asked Katherine, after Zelda had left the office.

"I’m fine," she smiled, attempting to appear unaffected by Zelda’s rudeness.

I gave her a hug. As I held her, she started crying.

"Zelda is a bitch," I whispered to her.

"Yes, she is."

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked

She pulled away from me, holding my hands in hers, and looked at me steadily.

"Can I do whatever I want to Andrew?" she asked me.

"Did you have something particular in mind?" I inquired.

She let go of my hands and sat again at her desk.

"I’ll do all the Synod have ordered," she replied, "but I want to add a few things. By the time I’m finished with Andrew, Zelda’s going to regret every word she every nasty word said to me."

"She’s just an ignorant bitch," I repeated. "Don’t let her get to you."

"I know she’s a bitch. But that still doesn’t excuse what she said to me. Can I do what I want with him?"

"Sure," I agreed, reluctantly.

"What about her?" she asked, grimly. "The bitch? Can I work on her too."

"What about her?" I asked in return.

"I’ve got plans for her too."

I’d never seen Katherine this angry before. I considered for a second, then decided.

"Yeah. Go ahead," I nodded.

"Good," she smiled.

After having met Zelda, I was starting to feel just a little sorry for Andrew. With a wife like that, I wondered what I might have done, in his position.

 

To be continued…

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Dave Hicks. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.